Page 61 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

“Also, I like you on your knees. And on your stomach. All the fucking positions,” he continues. “Now answer my question.”

My heart beats loud, my mind replaying Iosif being in this house, his words. The look he gave me.

He wasn’t lying. Not about the threats, and a threat to him is a threat to Tatiana. It might not be direct, but she’s in his mansion, and the fact that he came here…

Fuck, I thought Seamus believed me when I said I didn’t plant any kind of hardcore bomb. I don’t even know how to begin to make one that’ll do more than maybe harm someone leaning over it. That’s why I made a connection to the car, why I hoped I could blow that up.

I’d never done it before. The small flash bombs, yes, because Paddy liked to make them.

Though it was only a handful of years ago, I suddenly feel like the memories belong to a different person. One who was naïve because I helped make a few. And never asked where they’d end up. When he came back beaten and bloodied with some of his friends, telling me Stan was dead, I… I demanded to know who did it.

I wanted revenge on whoever killed my cousin. Whoever it was who stole my future.

I squeeze my eyes shut, the heavy weight of Seamus comforting in a weird way that I don’t want.

“What?” he asks, licking my throat. “Can’t think of a good response?”

“Fuck you.” I open my eyes.

He nibbles across my lips. And offers the slow burn smile that flips my stomach and instantly makes me wet.

“Maybe later, sweet thing, if you’re good.”

Anger flares and I don’t bother to tamp it down, and all it does is feed the flames that burn between us, because I can feel the vibration of his anger, and together it threatens an inferno.

“I didn’t plant the?—”

“Watch your next words, Ava. I know you made the flash bombs and the gas tank one. I’m asking why.” He brushes my cheek with his lips. “I’m asking what part you played with the Lev group, with this Hank. And the Semtex bomb.”

The flames stutter out. “Who? No, I didn’t…” I stop and suck in a breath. “I’ve heard the name Hank, but I don’t know him.”

“Well, at least you know what Semtex is.”

“Of course I do,” I snap. “But he never played with that.”

“Paddy?”

I don’t even nod for his green eyes to turn to ice, and his hands tighten their grip on my wrists. Now my heart starts to beat harder for a different reason.

Or maybe it’s the same.

I’m not scared even though I know I should be.

I’m turned on in a primal way, one where sex is life and death and blood and lust. And I meet that gaze full-on. “Yes.”

“But he taught you how to play Irish fighter, huh? What else?”

“Nothing,” I say, my voice tight. “It’s just… after my dad and Elena, I… The bratva was meant to be mine.”

It’s familiar, safe. And I stay on this path.

“Of course. You’re the milk of human kindness.”

“And you’re a fucking saint, aren’t you, Seamus?”

His smile is cold and feral yet holds the kind of bite I crave. “You’re the one pretending to cry over your cousin when you were manipulating him into handing you the keys to the bratva.”

I struggle to break his hold but he’s too strong. “Stanislav didn’t want to run a bratva. He didn’t want to be part of it. Neither did my uncle. Stan was a rich kid who loved money and pseudo danger, but he understood family. You do what you’re told.”